


The Stars That Rise, The Rain That Falls

by Victoria_Grantt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Future Fic, Heaven, Heavy Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-03 01:55:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6591991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Victoria_Grantt/pseuds/Victoria_Grantt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once, a member of his garrison had brought him a tiny glass vial within which swirled a tiny wisp of mist that made him weep at the memory of just how far he’d fallen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Stars That Rise, The Rain That Falls

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not loving the whole Lucifer in Castiel storyline as I can't see a good way out of it for Castiel. This comes from that storyline.
> 
> Title from an Ann Voskamp quote.

Missing your love  
with God’s so  
close at hand.

It seems somehow  
a sacrilege… 

but I think  
God understands.

_Peter McWilliams_

 

When Castiel awoke, his memories were jumbled and disjointed. Time seemed to have lost all meaning, and the scattered memories of his past life orbited like planetary bodies in the Heavens around the one shining light that served both as his purpose and his guide – Dean Winchester. 

His entire being ached; both physical and emotional pain racked his body and mind. Hannah tended him patiently, holding him as sobs shuddered through him, or when he screamed in agony, explaining to him again and again that it was all over. 

“What has happened?” he demanded ten or twenty or fifty times a day.

“The Darkness,” she explained patiently. The Darkness was gone, as was Lucifer. No one in heaven or hell or on Earth knew how, just that they had disappeared. And Castiel’s broken and battered body had been found in a newly formed crater six hundred feet deep and fifteen hundred feet wide in the middle of Death Valley. He’d been rescued and taken to heaven to heal.

Hannah kept turning away angels who wanted to help with Castiel’s care and disallowed all visitors. They came to her anyway, bringing small tokens for the angel that had restored heaven and Earth; beautifully scented and colored flowers, smooth river-polished stones, small, perfectly formed gems, brightly hued leaves touched by frost, seashells of every variety, and pinecones of such symmetry they made Castiel lose himself for hours at a time.

Once, a member of his garrison had brought him a tiny glass vial within which swirled a tiny wisp of mist that made him weep at the memory of just how far he’d fallen. 

After a space of time, Hannah allowed some of her brethren to visit with Castiel. Those that had known him, or who were calm and serene in nature were given entry. And Castiel asked each one the same question, “Have you seen the Winchester brothers? What news of Dean Winchester?”

The answer was always the same. None had seen or heard anything about Dean or Sam. Wherever they were, they were well warded, and thus, invisible to the angels.

Castiel begged Hannah to look for Dean, to look for the Impala, to talk to Crowley, to search heaven. He would work himself into a sobbing shuddering mess, uncertain as to how long he’d languished, ill and perhaps unable to hear Dean’s prayers. 

Hannah would soothe him, redirecting his attention to something else, sometimes by singing or crooning softly. Castiel had no secrets from her. During the time he’d been ill and raving, she’d discovered his deepest secrets, one of which he’d hidden even from himself. He loved Dean Winchester above all others, even above God. It had been a shocking discovery and Hannah vowed to save Castiel from himself and to keep his secret from all.

She remembered her time on Earth, remembered the human passions and hungers she’d felt. She remembered how easy it had been to be close to Castiel, and how she’d almost succumbed to hunger and passion. She hadn’t known at the time Castiel had already given in to such human things. He’d hidden it from her well. She wondered if she would have felt pain if Castiel had rejected her as surely would have happened.

Castiel recovered slowly. He refused visitors, preferring to spend his time with Hannah. She was known and she was safe. She didn’t look at him with pity or fear or awe.

Years passed on Earth, and in heaven and Castiel eventually recovered most of his memories. The memories of how the Darkness and Lucifer were defeated remained lost to him, however. Occasionally a flash of something would cross his mind, too swift and intangible to grasp. He resigned himself to not knowing although he had a theory, which he kept to himself. It would serve no one to admit he’d had nothing to do with the destruction of the Darkness or of Lucifer.

He thought of Dean daily, but if anyone had heard news of Dean or Sam, no one was telling him. And he grieved. He grieved that he’d abandoned the brothers and he mourned the loss of his lover. He grieved and mourned so deeply, he didn’t understand how he still lived. His loneliness was a physical pain that never left.

~*~

I must  
remember  
that I must  
forget.

I must  
forget  
what I  
remember. 

to survive. 

to forget. 

the  
un  
forget  
able.

_Peter McWilliams_

 

There had been signs and omens moving west for months. They’d been too sporadic for the brothers to stay on the trail. They’d follow up on a lead that led nowhere and then retreat back to the bunker. They continued to hope that Castiel could control Lucifer and waited for word from him that never came.

Ominously, over the last two weeks there were no signs of Amara and no omens of Lucifer. With the exception of vague rumors of something that happened in the Mojave, it had been quiet; maybe too quiet. It was making them both itchy.

They’d heard from other hunters that something big had happened in the desert. None of them knew exactly what; there had been too much government activity for any of them to get close. 

Once they’d started to hear from other hunters, Sam called dozens of people trying to ferret out any information he could. Two days later, his efforts were rewarded.

“Hey, Sam.” 

“Jody,” he replied. “You’ve got something for me?”

“I do. It’s a friend of a friend type of thing, but it’s solid,” she answered.

“Okay, shoot.”

“You remember the earthquake a few weeks ago?”

“The one in Death Valley?”

“Yup, that would be the one.”

“What of it?”

“It was a 5.5, Sam. Not all that big in that part of the world. There were a few hundred people camping and hiking in the area. Every single one of them had a story about what they saw,” she began.

“Saw? Don’t you mean felt?”

“No, Sam, I mean saw.”

Sam took a deep breath, “Okay,” he exhaled.

“About half the witnesses were hiking along the desert washes when they began hearing thunder and saw the sky turn completely black. They didn’t have much else in the way to report as they were scrambling to get to higher ground,” she explained. “But, most of the others reported snakes coming out of the ground and a lot of them claimed the sand was boiling.”

“Isn’t most of that common during earthquakes?” Sam inquired.

“It is, but during or after, not before. And those things happen during really big quakes,” Jody retorted. “There’s more, Sam. Are you near your computer?”

“Yeah, I’m opening up the email that I just got.” Jody waited while Sam examined the photos she’d sent. “What exactly am I looking at, Jody?”

“A crater that didn’t exist before the earthquake. It’s six hundred feet deep, fifteen hundred feet wide, and it’s got a rim a hundred and fifty feet tall.”

“Wait, what? Earthquakes don’t cause craters,” the hunter exclaimed.

“No, they don’t.” Jody said dryly. “There was a group of backpackers about twenty miles out from the crater. They made their way out three days ago. And they had quite the story to tell.”

Sam chuckled. “Let me guess, a UFO.”

Jody also laughed. “Yeah. That’s exactly what they’re claiming.”

“So, what’d they see?”

“After the sky turned dark they saw a shaft of blue light piercing the darkness from the ground up. They heard an explosion and then took shelter. They’re claiming all of that occurred in the moments _before_ the quake. 

“It took them over a week to walk out and they immediately reported what they saw. The Lone Pine Sherriff’s office has a copter and they flew over the site. Once they saw the crater, they called in the military,” she detailed. 

Sam examined the photos carefully. The crater was the color of the desert floor. “You’re sure they said a blue light?”

“Yes, they repeated that several times because they didn’t understand why the light was coming from the ground rather than the sky.”

“Thanks, Jody, I owe you one,” Sam said gratefully.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on or keep me in the dark?” she demanded.

“As soon as I know anything, I’ll tell you.”

“Okay, Sam. Stay in touch and let me know if you need anything else.”

“I will, Thanks again,” he said ending the call.

~*~

“Dean! Dean!” Sam shouted.

Dean came running, “Where’s the fire?” he asked half jokingly.

“I think we’ve got a lead on Cas,” Sam said, relating the information Jody had given him.

They spent the next two hours scouring the photos and the only thing that was clear was that there weren’t angel wings burned into the desert floor of the newly made crater. 

“So do you think it was Cas?” Dean asked for the twentieth time.

“Well, it’s the only thing that makes sense. I think the blue light was Lucifer fighting Amara.”

“So, where’s Cas?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Not yet anyway.”

~*~

Dean and Sam had started the search for Castiel expecting to have him back in weeks. They had no reason to believe he’d died. But they hit a brick wall wherever they turned. If Cas was alive he was well and truly AWOL.

They’d searched under every alias Castiel had ever used, enlisted the help of every hunter they’d ever had contact with and asked them to spread the word. They mocked up a missing person flyer with a twenty-five thousand dollar reward, using the name James Winchester and had Sheriff Mills send it to every major police department and Sherriff’s office across the country. They chased leads and used social media.

And every night, Dean prayed. He prayed as hard as he could, pleading for Castiel to hear him, to not leave him hanging. He prayed as if his life depended on it; confessing his love, something he’d never managed to do before Cas had agreed to be Lucifer’s vessel. Dean had taken solace in Castiel’s arms, but neither of them had ever spoken of love. Dean bitterly regretted not telling the angel; he’d been in love with him long before they fell into bed.

They worked sporadically, following up on leads no matter how thin. Eventually, even those thin leads dried up. Two years of searching and they hadn’t caught the slightest scent of Cas.

During the search, Dean had maintained hope, but now that hope was gone. And resorting to old behavior, Dean fell into a bottle.

~*~

Five years after the incident in the desert Dean and Sam were running a werewolf to ground in Butte, when Dean missed his shot; something that would’ve been unthinkable even six months ago. 

Dean had been a bit too hung over and then had had a tad too much hair of the dog. He took a breath too long and Sam was nearly mauled. He finally managed to empty his gun into the wolf before cutting its head off in a fit of temper.

They made the trip back to the bunker in utter silence, both of them preoccupied with their own thoughts. When they arrived Dean turned off the car, turning to Sam. “I’m done, Sammy.”

“Look, Dean, I know how deep things went with you and Cas. Do you think he’d want you living like this?”

“You don’t have a fucking clue how deep things were,” Dean growled. “He wasn’t just my friend, okay?”

Sam schooled his expression, refusing to allow his shock to show. “When?”

Running his hand through his hair, Dean replied, “Does it matter?”

“No, I guess it doesn’t. That doesn’t change my question, Dean. Do you think Cas would want you to drink yourself to death?”

“I don’t really care what he’d want. He agreed to be Lucifer’s vessel without discussing it with me and now he’s gone,” Dean spat. “He doesn’t get a say. But I’ll be god dammed if I get you killed.”

“What will you do?” Sam asked brokenly.

“Research. You can find someone else to hunt with or go hunting on your own. Hell, go back to school or go find that girl again,” Dean advised.

“Let’s just take a break, Dean. We can get you cleaned up and we’ll keep looking for Cas,” Sam begged.

“You don’t get it, Sammy. I don’t _want_ to get cleaned up. I just want to be left alone. Cas is gone and I’m dealing with it the only way I know,” Dean admitted.

~*~

Despite Sam’s efforts, Dean refused to stop drinking and refused to hunt. After six months of trying, Sam had gone off on a routine salt and burn. He’d only been gone two days, and when he returned, he’d found his brother unconscious. Dean had gotten drunk, hitting his head on the corner of a table. 

Sam was furious. Left to his own devices, he had no doubt his brother would be dead inside a year and that was completely unacceptable. He reached out to Jody Mills and she suggested he invite Claire to stay at the bunker.

~*~

Claire Novak had never really settled into life. Her experiences with the supernatural deeply scarred her. She had a foot in two worlds and wasn’t entrenched in either. She longed for a home and stability and above all, to be needed. Taking care of Dean while living at the bunker seemed to be the answer to all her secret desires and she jumped at Sam’s invitation.

~*~

“No,” Dean shouted. “I don’t need a nursemaid.”

“She’s not your nursemaid, Dean,” Sam explained patiently.

“Sure she is. I may be a drunk, but I’m not a stupid one.”

“Claire needs a place to stay. She can help you with your research. I think we owe her, don’t you,” Sam demanded.

It was one of the few things Dean couldn’t argue against.

~*~

My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.  
_from the Song of Solomon_

 

Over the next fifteen years, Claire helped Dean research, going on the occasional hunt with Sam. She did as much for Dean as she could, which in the scheme of things wasn’t all that much. She couldn’t stop his self destructive spiral, and over the last five years it became clear that Dean was ill.

He became gaunt as he drank most of his meals, and his skin was took on a yellowish pallor. He was often fatigued, and for the first time in Sam’s memory, he was weak. Even Claire was stronger. As stubborn as ever Dean refused to see a doctor. It was only a matter of time and Sam called those who loved his brother to come and say their goodbyes.

There came a day when Dean could no longer leave his bed. He became weaker and weaker and soon could barely talk. Claire, Sam, and Jody took turns at his bedside, keeping him company and holding his hand.

~*~

It was 2 AM and Sam was dozing when Dean’s mumbling woke him from his thin sleep. 

“Castiel,” Dean muttered.

“I’m here, Dean,” Sam responded, hoping to bring his brother some peace.

“Cas?” Dean questioned, his eyes wide open, but unseeing. He smiled softly and died, small grin still on his face.

~*~

Castiel had finally recovered enough that Hannah was able to leave him to his own devices for much of the time. When he discovered that nearly twenty years on Earth had passed, he had been devastated. He could have gone to Dean, but was reluctant to intrude on his life. He didn’t know if he could bear seeing what had become of his lover. Too many years had gone by.

He was walking a garden path, relishing his solitude when he heard Dean’s voice lifted in prayer. Flying swiftly to the source of the prayer, he was stunned to see the wreck of Dean Winchester. “I’m here, Dean,” he said gently.

Dean turned to the sound of his voice, his eyes opened wide in wonder. “Cas?” he smiled, hope in his voice.

“Yes, Dean.”

And Dean went willingly and joyfully to the angel he’d grieved so long and hard.

### Epilogue

Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine.  
_From the Song of Solomon_

 

Hunter funerals were generally sparsely attended. But, at least fifty people watched under a deliciously blue sky as flames consumed Dean’s body. Sam stood stoically, Claire and Jody by his side, lending him silent support. 

It had been twenty years since he’d heard angel wings, but the sound of them brought back a flood of memories. He turned quickly, his hunter instincts still sharply honed and felt himself go weak in the knees.

“Hey, bro,” Dean grinned smugly. 

“Dean!” Sam cried joyously at the sight of his brother, youthful, healthy, and happy. 

Dean held out his hand and Castiel appeared, looking as strong and young as when they’d first met. “I’m okay, Sammy. Better than okay. I got an upgrade that includes wings. 

“Time to pack it in and enjoy the rest of your life,” Dean said in that irritating big brother way. “When it’s your time, I’ll come get you.”

“How… how am I…” Sam trailed off, crying for the first time since Dean had died.

“One day at a time, Sammy, one day at a time. You’re gonna be fine, I promise you,” Dean said gently.

Sam turned his eyes to Castiel, his expression hardening.

Castiel held up a hand. “I was ill, Sam. There was no way for me to come. I’m sorry,” the blue eyed angel said in his stiff, odd way. “I will take better care of him this time.”

“Make sure that you do,” Sam ordered.

“I love you, Sammy,” Dean said, hugging his brother a final time. He looked at his body and the now seemingly frozen flames. “I got a better death than most hunters,” he observed.

“And a hunter’s funeral,” Sam noted.

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

Dean winked and was gone. The flames began burning again and no one had noticed Dean’s visit. Sam looked skyward and whispered, “Thank you,” even as his tears blurred his vision. 

The End


End file.
